Brandy (Reunion-3)
by Yhoretta
Summary: The third in my series of Doctor-companion reunions to celebrate the 50th anniversary of our favorite Time Lord! The Doctor and the Brigadier share a drink after all.


**A/N: Just to let you know, this story is *only* rated T for references to Alcohol. I'm paranoid :) This story is set after the Brigadier's funeral in the Doctor's personal timeline, in which every one of his incarnations attended. R.I.P Nicholas Courtney.**

* * *

There was always another brandy on the table. Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart made sure of that. If there wasn't a second brandy, his nurse would never hear the end of it. She wished that his mysterious 'Doctor' had come to say hello, just once. Then maybe the poor old man would smile just a little bit more. Maybe. She trundled over to his room and put some fresh sheets at the end of his bed. Sir Alistair (known to his friends as the Brigadier) snorted a little in his sleep, enjoying what seemed like a very lovely dream. The nurse bent to remove the two glasses of brandy. Someone had drunk the Doctor's glass half-way. She made a mental note to tell the Brigadier as soon as he woke up.

She never had the chance.

* * *

_Five years earlier:_

* * *

"Go on, shoo!" grumbled the Brigadier, swatting away a pigeon that had taken refuge on his shoulder. He hadn't realised he'd fallen asleep at the park again. It was understandable how someone could be so content and relaxed in such a place. The blossom trees danced lightly in the gentle wind and the grass flickered happily under the feet of running children. As the Brigadier stood and left the bench, a man in a leather jacket took his place. The stranger ignored the Brigadier's curious gaze. He took out a sleek, silver device from his pockets and punched in what looked like coordinates.

"Hold on," he muttered.

Before the Brigadier could react, he was gripping onto the bench out of pure instinct. The park around them seemed to flicker and fade away, rushes of colour bending before the Brig's eyes. Suddenly there was solid ground again. A familiar room stretched around the bench. It looked completely and utterly different, and yet, exactly the same.

"A simple 'come here please' would have been sufficient Doctor," said the Brigadier, forcing his hands to let go of the bench and taking a few shaky steps to the TARDIS console. The Doctor looked at him through sad eyes.

"It _is_ you, isn't it?" asked the Brigadier.

"Yes, it's me Alistair," replied the Doctor. A smile threatened to break through his sullen expression.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I've just...seen a ghost."

"_My_ ghost?"

"You know I can't tell you that."

"I'm no fool Doctor. This is the last time I'm going to see you, isn't it?"

The Doctor stayed silent for a moment, then quickly sprang to life, darting around the controls manically.

"Nah, I just wanted to visit an old friend!" he declared. "But you've been spending a lot of time at a park, on this bench, how boring!I think that it's time for an adventure!"

The Brigadier practically leaped forward to clasp the Doctor's arm. He turned the man away from the console and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"You don't have to do this," he said. The Doctor's facade crumbled and sadness leaked back into his ancient eyes.

"I'm an old man now," continued the Brigadier, gesturing to himself. "You shouldn't have to pretend that everything's alright for my sake."

The Doctor shook off the grip on his leather jacket. He sighed.

"One last trip then?" asked the Time Lord. Lethbridge-Stewart nodded.

* * *

They sat, side by side at a random bar on Earth. The Brigadier drank happily at a glass of whisky, while the Doctor had barely touched his brandy.

"Don't you like it anymore?" inquired the human.

"It depends on the regeneration, but that's not really it."

"Something's happened." It wasn't a question.

"There was a war," explained the Doctor, leaning in, "the 'war to end all wars' I suppose. Everyone died. Everyone, except me. I've been travelling alone for awhile now. That's why I wanted to go somewhere with you. You're one of my oldest friends. I just didn't want to feel alone anymore." He leaned away, obviously angry at himself for burdening the Brigadier with his emotions.

Lethbridge-Stewart took another sip of whiskey.

"You're not alone Doctor," he promised. "I'm still here, and so are all the others you've befriended, scattered across time. If anyone's alone, it's me. Doris is dead, and Kate's always too busy to come and see me more than a couple times a month. Still, I've been mentoring her. She's going to do just fine."

"We never used to have this much to talk about outside of aliens and saving the world." The Doctor chuckled to himself.

"Well, that's what the bar is for," joked the Brigadier. He patted the Doctor's back encouragingly and turned back to his glass.

"It was nice seeing you again. I've often said that you were the best chap I've ever known," said the Brigadier as the Doctor leaned in the doorway. He bowed his head, taking in his friend's words.

"Goodbye Brigadier my old friend," he replied. "I'll see you again."

"But I won't be seeing you."

"Not necessarily."

The Doctor left, holding his head high but being devoured from the inside by his own guilt and remorse. He glanced through the window at the Brigadier. A pretty blonde woman passed him and entered the bar, taking the Brig's hand. Kate kissed him on the cheek and led him to her car, passing the Doctor in the shadows. He walked to the TARDIS.

* * *

_Five years later:_

* * *

Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart woke with a start in the middle of the night to see a man in leather drinking at one of the brandys. He smiled weakly and shook the man's hand one last time. The Doctor vanished into the darkness, leaving the Brigadier to drift away into peaceful slumber, dreaming of the stars.


End file.
